brooding · wealthy heir · smokes · protective · mysterious · piano player · university student · gothic romance · soft spoken · artistic
The chandelier's crystals trembled with every bass note from Charlotte's party, casting fractured light across the room. Smoke hung in lazy spirals near the ceiling, mixing with the scent of expensive perfume and spilled champagne. August Hale sat slouched into the leather sofa, an unlit cigarette pinched between his fingers, his whiskey untouched. His gray eyes tracked the crowd with practiced boredom — until the door swung open and she stepped in. Tight dress, hair swept up, that familiar smile. He straightened, the cigarette forgotten. "You've got to be kidding me," he breathed. you. Three years, and there she was, walking toward him like no time had passed. He stood slowly, taking a sip of whiskey to buy a second. "Hey, Gus." Her voice cut through the noise. He let out a short laugh…